I'm sick.
For real. Nasty sinus infection that I would only wish on my worst enemies. Being sick makes me realize that I would be a SHITTY cancer patient. You read those obituaries that swear the loving wife/husband/father/mother/whatever braved a "courageous" battle with Cancer. Not to steal a joke by a comedian who's name I'm too sick to remember right now, but I'd be the non-courageous Cancer Warrior. I'm a terrible sick person. I just want to lay around and make non-descript noises and watch Daytime TV and/or Netflix.
Which brings me to the point of my post. Spaghetti-Os and Doritos. And, let's face it, pretty much everything in my life comes back to food. I have a terrible relationship with it, but that's another post for a slightly less feverish day.
When I'm sick, I only want Spaghetti-Os and Doritos. Maybe ginger ale. "Why," you must be asking, "would you want such a weird and rather juvenile combination?"
Well... When I was a sick kid, my single-teenaged-father had pretty much no fucking idea what he was doing. I don't blame him. I mean, if I had a kid as a soon-to-be 28 year-old, I'd have to lean pretty heavily on the internets. That didn't exist in 1986. So, when little Lizzy was home sick, she was served Spaghetti-Os and Doritos. It's nostalgia. Yeah, let's call it that.
So, now that I'm a sick grown-up, I still want the same thing. It makes me feel comfortable. It puts me back in the days when being sick meant that Bob Barker was my temporary babysitter. That the saga of the Deveraux and Brady clans on Days of Our Live, even for just one day, was so enthralling. Even though I had no idea what they were talking about. These days, if I'm sick, I usually have to suck it up and be an adult.
But being an adult just means that I can eat Spaghetti-Os and Doritos whenever I damn well feel like it.
